La, Cap. Fie, fie! what! are you mad?
Jul. Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience, but to speak a word.

Cap. Hang thee, young baggage ! difobedient wretch !
I tell thee what, get thee to church o' Thursday,
Or never after look me in the face.

Speak not, reply not, do not anfwer me,

My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us bleft,
That God had fent us but this only child,

But now I fee this one is one too much,
And that we have a curfe in having her a
Out on her, hilding!

Narfe. God in heaven bless her!

You are

ر

blame, my Lord, to rate her fo.

Cap. And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, Good prudence, fmatter with your goffips, go.

Nurfe. I fpeak no treafon-O, god-ye-good-den →→ May not one fpeak?

Cap. Peace, peace, you mumbling fool; Utter your gravity o'er a goffip's bowl,

For here we need it not.

La. Cap. You are too hot.

Cap. God's bread, it makes me mad day, night, late,

At home, abroad, alone, in

company,

Waking or fleeping, fill my care hath been

To have her match'd; and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,

Of demeans, youthful, and nobly allied,
as they fay with honourable parts,

Proportion'd as one's thought would with a man:
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
To answer,
I cannot love,
I am too you'll not wed.

young, I pray you, pardon me

But, if you will not wed, I'll pardon you:
Graze where you will, you fhall not house with me?
Look to't, think on't, I do not ufe to jeft.
Thurfday is near, lay hand on heart, advise;
If you be mine, I'll give you to my friend:
If you be not, hang, beg, ftarve, die i'th' fireets
For, by my foul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,

[early 2

Nor

Nor what is mine fhall ever do thee good':
Truft to't, bethink you, I'll not be forfworn.
Jul. Is there no pity fitting in the clouds,
That fees into the bottom of my grief?
O fweet my mother, caft me not away,
Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
Or if you do not, make the bridal bed
In that dim monument where Tybalt lyes.

[Exit

La. Cap. Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word : Do as thou wilt; for I have done with thee.

[Exita Jul. O God! O nurse, how fhall this be prevented? Alack, that heav'n fhould practise ftratagems Upon fo foft a fubject as my self!

Nurfe. 'Faith, here it is:

Romeo is banish'd; all the world to nothing,
That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you
Or if he do, it needs must be by stealth.
Then fince the cafe fo ftands as now it doth,
I think it beft you married with the Count.
Oh, 'faith, he is a lovely gentleman.
Romeo's a difh-clout to him; an eagle, Madam,
Hath not fo keen, fo quick, fo fair an eye
As Paris hath. Befhrew my very heart,
I think you happy in this fecond match,
For it excels your firft; or if it did not,
Your first is dead, or 'twere as good he were,
As living hence, and you no use of him.
Jul. Speakeft thou from thy heart?
Nurfe. And from my foul,

Or elfe befhrew them both!

Jul. Amen.

Nurfe. To what?

Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much

Go in, and tell my Lady I am gone,

Having difpleas'd my father, to Lawrence' cell,

To make confeffion, and to be abfolved.

Nur. Marry I will, and this is wifely done.

Jul. Ancient damnation! O moft wicked fiend!

Is it more fin to with me thus forfworn,

Or to difpraife my Lord, with that fame tongue

[Exit.

Which the hath prais'd him with above compare,
So many thousand times? go, counsellor,
Thou and my bosom henceforth fhall be twain:
I'll to the Friar to know his remedy.

If all elfe fail, my self have power to die.

Fri,

Ο

ACT IV. SCENE I.
The Monaftery.

Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris.

N Thurfday, Sir! the time is very short.
Par. My father Capulet will have it fo,
And I am nothing flow, to flack his hafte.

Fri. You fay you do not know the Lady's mind:
Uneven is this course, I like it not.

Par. Immoderately the weeps for Tybalt's death,
And therefore have I little talk'd of love,
For Venus fmiles not in a house of tears.
Now, Sir, her father counts it dangerous
That the fhould give her forrow so much sway
And, in his wisdom, haftes our marriage,
To ftop the inundation of her tears;
Which, too much minded by her felf alone,
May be put from her by fociety.

Now do you know the reafon of this hafte.

[Exita

Fri. I would I knew not why it should be flow'd. [Afiden Look, Sir, here comes the Lady tow'rds my cell.

Enter Juliet.

Par. Welcome, my love, my lady and my wife!
Jul. That may be, Sir, when I may be a wife,
Par. That may be, muft be, love, on Thursday next.
Jul. What must be, fhall be.

Fri. That's a certain text.

Par. Come you to make confeffion to this father?

i Jul. To answer that were to confefs to you.
Par. Do not deny to him that you love me.
Jul. I will confefs to you that I love him.
Par. So will ye, I am fure, that you love me.
Jul. If I do fo, it will be of more price
Being fpoke behind your back, than to your face.
Par. Poor foul, thy face is much abus'd with tears,
VOL, IX,

F

Jul

Jul. The tears have got small victory by that led to

For it was bad enough before their pight.

Par. Thou wrong' fit, more than tears, with that report. Jul. That is no flander, Sir, which is but truth,

And what I fpeak, I fpeak it to my face.

Par. Thy face is mine, and thou haft flander'd it.
Jul. It may be fo, for it is not mine own.
Are you at leifure, holy father, now,

Or fhall I come to you at evening mass 2133
Fri. My leifure ferves me, penfive daughter, now. osv©
My Lord, I muft intreat the time alone.

N

19v 215 37 Par. God fhield, I fhould difturb devotion! 125 Ta Juliet, farewel, and keep this holy kifs!

[Exit Paris
Jul. Go fhut the door, and when thou haft done fo,
Come weep with me, paft hope, paft cure, paff help.
Fri. O Juliet, I already know your grief;

I hear thou muft, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this Count.

Jul. Tell me not, Friar, that thou bear'ft of this,
Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it.

If in thy wisdom thou can't give no help,
Do thou but call my refolution wife,
And with this knife I'll help it presently.
God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo feal'd,
Shall be the label to another deed,

Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this fhall flay them both':
Therefore out of thy long-expérienc'd-time,
Give me fome prefent counsel, or behold
Twixt my extreams and me this bloody knife
Shall play the umpire; arbitrating that,
Which the commiffion of thy years and art
Could to no iffue of true honour bring:
Speak now, be brief; for I defire to die,
If what thou speak' ft fpeak not of remedy.
Fri. Hold, daughter, I do 'fpy a kind of hope,
Which craves as defperate an execution,

As that is defp rate which we would prevent.
If rather than to marry County Paris-

17

The

Thou haft the ftrength or will to flay thy felf
Then it is likely thou wilt undertake

A thing like death to chide away this fhame,
That copes with death himself, to 'scape from it à
And if thou dar'ft, I'll give thee remedy.

Jul. O bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower ;
Ör chain me to fome teepy mountain's top
Where roaring bears and favage lions roam;
Or fhut me nightly in a charnel house,
O'er-cover'd quite with dead mens ratling bones
With reeky thanks, and yellow chapless foulls;
Or bid me go into a new-made grave, o
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;

Things that to hear them nam'd, have made me tremble And I will do it without fear or doubt,

To live an unftain'd wife to my fweet love.

Fri. Hold, Juliet: hye thee home, get thee to bed! (Let not thy Nurfe lye with thee in thy chamber :) And when thou art alone, take thou this vial, And this diftilled liquor drink thou off; When presently through all thy veins shall run A cold and drowfie humour, which fhall feize Each vital fpirit; for no pulfe fhall keep His nat❜ral progrefs, but furceafe to beat. No warmth, no breath fhall teftify thou liveft The rofes in thy lips and cheeks shall fade To paly afhes; the eyes windows fall Like death, when he fhuts up the day of life; And in this borrowed likeness of fhrunk death Thou shalt continue two and forty hours, And then awake, ás from a pleafant fleep. Now when the bridegroom in the morning comes To rowse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead : Then, as the manner of our country is, In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier, Thou shalt be born to that fame ancient vault, Where all the kindred of the Capulets lye. In the mean time, against thou shalt awake, Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift, Fz